Do it again
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: No one ever said anything about actions...The impassioned sense of longing that takes you over when you're so far beyond anger that you can't control yourself.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but if I did...

For sophie...debt payed in full! (must learn not to make bets that have stories as payment...one day)

* * *

Someone said you shouldn't say things in the heat of the moment that you don't mean. Things that later you might come to regret.

But she can't bring herself to regret anything with him.

Even the words that lead to anger, heated or raised voices, jealousy, issues dragged up that should be left buried, things that might cause you to act irrationally.

No one ever said anything about actions.

The impassioned sense of longing that takes you over when you're so far beyond anger that you can't control yourself. When you're burning with so much rage that words and feelings just don't cover it and what you need, all that you really have to have is movement.

He frustrates the crap out of her.

Grates against her...grinds...oh god the friction...

Drives her crazy with jealousy...

With movement as he presses so tight against her hips, through the cotton as if it doesn't exist.

He banters at the wrong time, teases and talks when he should be quiet. He loves her when she wants to fight, when she doesn't feel like she deserves it.

He makes her mad, he makes her happy.

Intentionally, unintentionally, deliciously, he calls forth something primal and pokes at it until she loses all rationality and has to use all her strength to crash his body into the wall and growl like a woman possessed.

He has done all of these things for years, she thinks as she slides her tongue fiercely into his mouth, but tonight for some reason, as she grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back for better access to his lips, she kind of wants to hurt him, just a bit, just enough to leave her mark.

Claw, scratch, tease, taste...bite mmm yeah _bite_ him.

Her mouth is full of him, the scent and taste mixing and her teeth clash hard against his bottom lip, more than a nip, just shy of drawing blood...but it will definitely leave an angry mark.

_Her_ angry mark.

Good.

She wants to punish his body, punish him, use him and make him explode.

Tease the hell out of him and love him, loathe him at the same time...push hard against it, pull it in, throw it all away and revel in it all at once.

And from the way his fingers are digging into her hips, the way his grip just gets tighter and tighter…she thinks he might be feeling it too.

Oh the way his nails scrape across the tender skin of her back...hard, not hard enough.

She wants more.

She shoves forcefully at his shoulders, drives him back through the door of his bedroom, into another wall, just missing a bookcase...shame.

She wouldn't mind trashing the place she thinks as her nails slide sharply over the exposed skin at the nape of his neck.

Destroying all the things, ripping down the foundations.

Ripping off his clothes.

Tearing everything asunder.

Biting...

His mouth ripples across her neck and his hands slide and he creates a weird rhythmic pulse with just his fingers that echoes through her entire body

Another growl escaping her chest, but it doesn't make it past her lips because he smothers her mouth with his own.

Dark kisses, livid and vibrant, full of naked red flames and just a tinge of annoyance. It sits around the edges of the kiss, as he swirls deeply inside her, no where near deep enough as her thighs clench together, but deep enough for the moment.

She can taste it.

Feeling him as he devours her, drawing on her saliva like its a fine wine, lathing the soft skin of her cheeks before...

Oh.

His hips just...

He lifts her from the floor, his hands suddenly massive, tight and aggressive at her ribs before he spins her on the spot and forces her into the wall, her turn to feel the hard press at her back.

Kate almost smiles, but she bites it back, bites him like she wanted to earlier...she did it then anyway, but yeah she wants to do it again.

And again.

Her teeth sliding across his bottom lip like a razor before she pulls the soft skin into her mouth, sucking on it and she feels him shudder into her, then she bites down...and oh god he feels so raw and tender and she can feel him flinch.

He makes a noise, deeply from the back of his throat that ripples through his chest and she catches it in her mouth. Drawing it out, making it longer by snaking her tongue around the very essence of the sound, sliding over his lips and pulling it into her.

Kate relishes the hiss, the blaze of anger that accompanies it, so she does it again, her hands pulling him forwards, holding him tight so she can bite and nip at his skin, her fingers dragging through his hair, pulling at the roots, wantonly aroused and pulsing with the desire to inflict a little of her rage on him.

His eyes are feral, deadly when their vision collides and holy hell just that...that look of what do you think you're doing Kate? It does all the right things, all the wrong things as well.

Liquid heat in a steady drip drip drip through her veins, pooling in her stomach and she wraps her leg around his calf, buckles his knee so he falls into her hard and fast and just...

She smiles, can't help it this time because he's_ hard_, and fast too.

Just what she wants, just what she needs.

But then her hands are being yanked from his hair, pain at her wrists as he grips her tightly. She will have finger print bruises around the entire circle of her wrist bone... and god she wants them.

Here.

There where his fingers hold her waist.

Everywhere.

She wants him to have the same.

Head to toe, all over his naked body.

Tangible proof.

Just shy of pain, just enough definition of the passion he wakes up, whatever it is that _she_ drives _him_ too.

He forces his knee between her legs as he thumps her backwards into the wall again, raising her hands above her head.

She could break his grasp if she really wanted, but honesty she has never wanted to. She has never felt the need to pull away from him, from the heat and drive and that dark spark that lights up when he takes away a little of that power she clings to, grips her wrists and crowds into her.

God she loves how small her hands are compared to his, because he can hold both her hers, tight and clammy and far too erotic, over her head with just one of his.

She closes her fingers over the hand that holds her, needing to cling on. Because with one hand holding hers both above her head...

That leaves the other one _free_.

Castle drags his open palm, fingers wide, slowly down her side.

Then he gives up soft trailings and slow progression going instead for pressure, just the heat of desire as he cups her breast through her shirt, his fingers squeezing until she gasps and arches into his thigh, finding it deliciously high and perfectly placed for her to grind her entire body weight against.

Kate meets his eyes just for a moment, the anger brimming around the dilated pupils of her eyes. He told her before when the fire burns through her like this it melts her from the inside out. Her eyes liquefy with molten passion, the green and brown a metallic swirl rippled through with flecks of flame.

He loves it.

He antagonises her on purpose to see that side of her, and it floats so close to the surface with him it doesn't take much...

Like tonight when he...

His tongue slides across the open V of her white cotton shirt and she can feel herself panting but she doesn't care. His tongue rides the valley between her breasts, over sweat dampened skin in one long sweep that she can feel down to the tips of her toes.

Arching into him again, she grinds her pelvis hard, sliding down his thigh and trying to tease him with each moan that leaves her mouth.

Their eyes lock together again and Kate lets out another keening call, deep and throaty, enticing him to reveal every dark desire hidden, her head tipping back as she invites him in.

Watching her watch him, he licks his lips, raises his thigh again to press the solid muscle between her legs before he slides it away, presses it back.

Damn him she can feel it coming already, that swirl and spiral of wetness and arousal, the urge to clench her thighs together and rotate her hips, it makes her angrier.

Castle reads the gyration of her body against his leg all too well and the smug bastard smiles at her, his lips opening as he descends on her neck. His tongue is tricky, it's evil and manipulative against the pulse at the base of her throat, it teases when he sucks loudly on her, his teeth joining in.

His fingers the perfect betrayal as they yank her shirt free of her waist, giving him access to her zip.

Kate knows what is coming next, apart from _her_ that is.

She knows this pattern, she has felt every vibrating, crushing aching bodily echo of it and Kate expects any minute to feel his talented and aggravating fingers sliding between her legs and into the wetness he has created.

Only he knows this is what she wants, what she is waiting for and with another sly look he doesn't draw her zip low and delve inside.

Castle drags his teeth higher, up, he covers the long arch of her delicate neck, nipping and scratching at her with his teeth and stubble, until he reaches her ear. The skin at the hinge of her jaw taut, as bites her cheek, his for the taking, the tasting.

He opens his mouth wide against her face before slipping his hand between her legs, replacing his thigh, which he withdraws slowly.

Kate instinctively clenches around his hand, the hand that cups her through the thin material of her work pants. Barely a millimetre of soft cotton separating them.

He drags his fingers back and forth over her, under her.

His four fingers between her legs moving, rippling, over her and the heat that is pouring from the very centre of her body.

She feels the drip of moisture between her legs, he must feel it through her clothes, he must because it is an ever increasing tidal wave of lust that is welling up and she is about three seconds away from begging him to thrust into her as hard as he can.

His thumb brushes back and forth over the mound above, slow circles that contradict the dancing, speedily moving fingers below.

Kate's clenches around him tightly, trapping his hand between her thighs, far too late to beg, too late to do anything other than squeeze and ripple her muscles against him, past caring.

She clenches her hips together, forces her pelvis forwards and rides his hand, barely needing him to do more than stand there as the she feels the rushing wave approach.

But he has never been a silent partner, never one to stand on the sidelines when he could just jump right in and cause mayhem.

He keeps her hands trapped, raises them higher even, making her lift up onto her toes as he does, his hand still trapped between her legs, fingers in their eternal evil dance against her.

Castle presses harder.

His lips trailing again, soft above, harsh below, until they find her ear and he uses it to his advantage again, growling into her as she rocks backwards and forwards "You're fucking hot when you're angry."

Her eyes open wide as he retreats from her neck and stares her down, he watches the pleasure flood her body, the ache and clench hit her hard when the orgasm crashes over her.

Her head tips back into the wall, but Kate doesn't break the line of sight, it's an intense turn on for her to have him watch her squeeze her hips together and ride every last ounce of pleasure against his hand.

To have him stare into her eyes and see every ecstasy filled dilation of her pupils hit her in wave after wave.

Her muscles are tight as they twist, squeeze and release, each pulsation trying to pull cries from her, but she won't let them.

She internalises the noises of rampant joy that should echo from her mouth, forces them south, drives them from other lips so that she is an electric_ snap_ of raw sexual frenzy.

Her body is possessed by it, each movement tingling, jangling nerves against him that he shouldn't be able to reach from this angle.

But he does.

Castle loves to watch her like this, smoky with desire and manic in her reaction. Kate kicks at him, the heel of her shoe colliding with his calf as she seeks to get closer even as the throbs drop off, lessening, he can tell by the way her eyelids droop, the fight she has to keep her eyes open and on him.

Finally she stills, relaxes back and closes her eyes, her lip dropping from her mouth, teeth marks in stark contrast to the delicate pink skin.

She bit down _hard_, so he knows it must have been good.

Castle waits until she opens her eyes again before he drops her hands, and pulls his fingers from between her legs.

His hands are sudden and fierce at her jaw, pulling her head forwards so he can claim her mouth. As much as he wanted to mark her, claim her, devour her, he hates when she hurts herself.

He sucks her teeth-stained bottom lip into his mouth seeking to soothe it with the caress of his tongue.

Her nails drag at his scalp, down his back, across his chest as her mouth opens beneath his and she pledges kiss after kiss to his cause.

When their tongues meet in heated battle Kate crushes his body to hers, wants him driving her into the wall again, her orgasm has left her even more aware of him than before, he meets her beat for beat and thrust for thrust, until, against her will, he suddenly pulls back.

Naked flames of red fire burn through the blue-purple heat of rushing blood, thudding hard with her pulse.

Everything tastes like electricity, it's crackling over her skin.

"Why were you angry?" he gasps before he kisses her again.

This time it's Kate that pulls back, eyeing him for a second before she gives in and speaks "I have no fucking clue now."

He lets out a startled laugh, only before it lasts longer than a second Kate is moaning again, less anger more fight and attacking his mouth with her own.

Her hands drag the jacket down his arms and she feels herself growling along the length of his thickly teasing tongue.

She swaps their positions and curls herself into his body before she breaks their mouths apart.  
"How are you still dressed?" She questions and when he doesn't answer she yanks at his shirt "Why are you still wearing clothes?"

She greedily explores his body, pulling apart the buttons of his shirt and not caring if she tears them off. Her fingers are moving over his belt and his are on her zipper but there is no graceful way to strip another person amidst the heat of this.

No way not force her clothes from her body and avoid the stumble.

So they move apart in everything but their look, their eyes melted through with a sizzling connection of tension...fire and sparks and ecstasy and thunder...

Every word she can think of that means something big is coming...Oh yes even the innuendo is perfect. _Big_ and coming and hard and fast, clash clench squeeze...not so much innuendo anymore as just _raw_, dirty leading...filthy.

She wants that thick slide of his body through hers and the drowning out white noise of an earth shattering orgasm.

Another one.

And then maybe _another_ one.

Their eyes speak volumes, hers especially as she calls him out, warning him she plans to test him...

Can he keep up?

And he glares at the challenge, removing something, a piece of clothing she doesn't look at because she is so very focused on that dark pool of blue.

She doesn't need to watch his body emerge, she can already feel it.

And quickly, but nowhere near quickly enough, they are both naked, well except for her bra because she can't wait anymore, and his shirt that hangs open exposing his chest...and everything else.

Oh, and her shoes, because she just refuses to wait anymore.

He pulls her and she pushes him and he lands, sitting on the edge of bed. She follows and she falls more or less where she wants to be, in his lap.

Lifting into him, her lips at his with an almost sweep of her tongue across the dividing line.

Top or bottom?

She can't quite decide.

Doesn't really see why she should have to when she can have both.

She adjusts, finds her knees on the bed either side of his hips and raises herself just high enough that when she sinks down again, that thick, slick slide of his body is just...just...oh.

His hand catches the back of her head as she tips away, too much perfect sensation as she falls and he brings her back, that solid slide and his hands in her hair.

He drags her against his chest, lifting up at the same time that she arches forwards, presses down into his other waiting hand...and oh it's going to be fast.

Her hand tight in his hair, yanking backwards like earlier, she wants better access, more, any connection to his glorious mouth, but she yanks too hard.

He topples back with the force of it, lips locked and hips fused and they thud into the mattress and it's enough, that sudden force, to send her spiralling.

Bent fully over his body she rocks back and forth riding out the second wave of spinning pleasure, and he's not there yet, as she rocks over him.

He's tense but not quite tense enough, and that's good, so good because maybe...

But he's rolling them, no flipping no mastery of movement just a forceful shove so she's on her back and he can bear down on her.

And the angle left over from where she sat across him leaves her legs in perfect positions to wrap around him high and tight, and she finds herself open...wide open for whatever invasion he sees fit.

And maybe it won't be three.

It will be two but that's...maybe that's even better because the second one he's drawing it out, making it longer, making her shudder with each deep near lazy stroke.

She gasps against his lips because even in the middle of this...this spiral of feelings and warmth and even in the middle of this she's building again.

Climbing, shuddering.

Climbing, circling, shuddering, drowning in him.

Her hands move across his back and she can feel the muscles tense, ripple under her touch as he clings on, tries to fight it long enough that she...

But she doesn't want that, her fingers grip his neck pulling him down to her mouth. She wants the feel of him as he rides out his joy, she wants him where she is now...because...

Because three times is definitely the charm, it might even be the end of the fucking world as he slides deep and she arches and licks the softest skin on the inside of his cheek. She circles his entire mouth with her tongue and everything disappears into the black hole, that white noise of triumph, of touch.

Her name is his mantra as he pants through the ripples of her body, pounding the last ounces of his own ecstasy into her before he collapses over her chest, lips open but still against her neck.

Her limbs loosely wrapped around him in whimpering shudders she tilts back to find his eyes.

"Do it...again." She pleads in ragged exhales that tear from her chest almost painfully.

His open mouth leaves her slick and salty skin as he looks at her in dazed confusion, lusty and maybe just a bit horrified. "But I thought..."

She laughs pulling him down, stupid man, crazy delightfully stupid man. "Whatever it was..." she says with a sated sigh against his lips "whatever it was that you did that pissed me off...make sure you do it again."


End file.
